So, after a weekend filled with debauchery, alcohol, red
meat, alcohol, red meat, alcohol and chocolate, it was finally time to kick detox into
gear. I was strong like a lion and
really believed that it would be a simple matter. Oh and did I mention that Steve, in support
of this madcap adventure of mine, is going to sympathy detox with me? So impressed! J
Immensely enthused and amused by a message from my mom
saying good luck and “June the fourth be with you” (comedienne of note, my
mom!) off to gym I went. Divine took it somewhat easy on me this morning ,
putting me through the circuit - I think I scared him somewhat last week by
almost dying (ok so that’s a little melodramatic, but still).
The rest of the day was fine except that when it came time
for the rice cake and boiled egg I fell apart somewhat. Can anybody say GAG FEST? It took me like 45 minutes to eat two rice
cakes – I kid you not. This cannot
continue every day! BLEGH! The detox tea
is also gross but if I drink it really quickly then it’s not too bad! Chloé and I made an awesome tuna salad for
supper and, in self-defence, I hauled myself off to bed at 9PM!! Not sure how I am going to survive another 20
of these!
An interesting thing happened on Monday when I phoned my dad
to tell him that Father’s Day would not, this year, include the normal feast of
roast and all the trimmings! Yeah I
know, selfish much? Anyway, my dad’s
comment, at the end of my long explanation, was that it was fine because he
doesn’t live to eat, he eats to live.
Love that!
Day 2 started off all guns blazing! Divine seriously put me through my
paces! (Divine, my beauties, is also
known in MMA circles as Divine “The Hitman” Volontiya – clearly I’ve lost my
frikking mind)! Today involved skipping
(Sounds like fun right? Wrong!), loads
of kicking and other exhausting shit. I
have to say though that the stretching at the end, when he bends me into all
sorts of angles, is really awesome. Not
elegant. But awesome.
After complaining bitterly and ad nauseum (haha) about the eggs, Divine said I could switch to
peanut butter. I am beyond thrilled! Who
thought I would be ecstatic at the thought of peanut butter? All was going great guns – oats, peanut butter
rice cakes, water, detox tea – and I demolished my fruit salad practically in a
single bound (all Hulk like). However,
that was when Steve messaged me to say he could only eat half his fruit salad –
HE WAS TOO FULL! I admit, I got a little
grumpy for a minute or six but, under the pressure of a lot of bitching from my
side, he finished it and all was forgiven!
It was around then that my body started fighting back. I found that if I stayed absolutely
motionless, I was fine. The problem arose
when I moved. Or breathed.
Unfortunately, due to the fact that I am currently drinking water for
the Republic, unless a bedpan is brought into my office I have no choice but to
move. Sink or swim they say. Pffft! So I did the hobbleshufflelimp (technical
term) to and from the loo and the kitchen – each time wondering why the hell I
am doing this.
Something other pearls of wisdom Divine passed on to me: he said
that women have incredible resolve, and in his experience when we set a goal,
we do whatever it takes to reach it. Awesome. If I fail, I am failing the female species. No pressure!
Our first supper of steamed fish and raw veggies did not go
as well as I imagined! The fish was fine. Some thyme, a little black pepper and a
splodge of lemon - it was actually quite
tasty. However I cannot understand what
inspired some moron who perchance happened to stand in a field of broccoli (do
they grow in fields or in Satan’s lair?) to think gosh golly, these green tree
things look yummy. So I hereby present proof that there was broccoli
in my house. Last time. Ever.
Wednesday morning saw the introduction of my worst
nightmare. An ab workout. Now just so that you know, all through my gym
sessions over the last year and a bit I have worked everything EXCEPT my
abs! I always seem to conveniently “run
out of time” – thus resulting in the bakers dozen sitting around my middle. This horrified the Hitman whom, I believe, has
made it his personal crusade to ensure that I end up with seriaaas abs when he
is done with me. I gasped and grunted my
way through the session, ending with a 10 minute sprint up Kilimanjaro (ok it
was a jog at level 8, on an incline of 2 but still).
Divine also warned me that I
should expect, at any moment, a breakout of note. So probably by the end of the week I will be
rocking the full complement of hobbleshufflelimp, a pimple covered face and my
tummy yelling out at intervals “what the fuck dude???”.
So 4 training sessions, and 3 detox days and my resolve is
still strong – even if the body is taking strain. I have also resorted to doing the stick / carrot
thing – at the end of the 3 week detox we are going to Bloemendal for supper. Bloemendal serves cooked vegetables. Just saying!
x
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